It's about fly fishing, philosophy, reel stories and tall tails!

photos

Let’s start here: You’re a fly fisherman, a seasoned angler, you know what the term 5x is referring to, you know the difference between a comparadun and a parachute BWO, you have racked up a ton of days on the river, Life is pretty good for you, but do you have the proper mindset?

Do you miss more strikes then you think you should? Do you get frustrated when you have a great drift and you think it’s more often than not a rock or a stick? Only to find out it was a strike that you just lost out on?

Welcome to the world of an improper mindset – a world most fishermen believe they are above or shouldn’t be concerned about.

Let’s paint another picture.

Imagine this; You find yourself the most remarkable spot on the river, alone on great water loaded with gorgeous “bubble seams” flowing under a shaded tree section, just the right amount of cloud cover. You tie on a fly that matches the hatch perfectly, all is right in the world. You skillfully judge your distance, line, and rod in hand, you make the perfect cast to that one sipping trout you spotted from the bank, then BAM, he takes your bug, you set the hook, hastily and snap the fly off…then your line is tangled in the trees, you yell “Mother FK’r” then your temper rises because you have to wade through the water you were planning on fishing…you feel your day is now ruined.

Question is, is this fishermen’s head in the right place? Some may say yes, there is nothing wrong with trying to achieve perfection while doing any sport, being disappointed that your masterful effort wasn’t rewarded, frustrated that errors were made and so on, that’s fine, but, what a shortsighted way to do something you claim to love…I see things a bit differently.

I do understand that missing an opportunity can be aggravating but in my mindset, at least you were given the chance. Something to remember is fishing is about compromise, it’s about giving and taking, some times you “win” and sometimes the fish “wins’. But you can’t forget that at that very moment, that very second the trout did its part, you fooled the fish in believing that your offering was better than the real thing. So what if you lost it, what it should teach you is to take a moment to reflect on what you could have done differently to have the result you were expecting. The proper mindset is realizing there will always be another opportunity, another chance in the future. That snapped off fly and spaghetti in the trees is only a moment, the only thing that got hurt was your ego.

The fact is this, you could easily be sitting in your office, behind a counter, mowing your lawn, painting the fence, sitting in the blistering heat, hating life, instead of collecting yourself, looking around at the beautiful surroundings of the river, digging out your fly box, tying on a new length of tippit and focusing on that next “opportunity” just around the bend.

The next change in mindset (and this is directed to the millennials reading this blog) is don’t get fixated on taking photos of every fish you catch. I do understand the importance of social media and how it has become a deep-rooted part of the youth culture but leave something for you. Despite popular beliefs, you will not become the next fly fishing influencer nor will you make a living by having a certain company beer can placed oh so perfect next to your catch or having a reel manufacturers hat on, tilted so it looks good in the image, truthfully it’s transparent and kind of ridiculous. The proper mindset is you’re out doing a beautiful, poetic sport in places most people won’t have an opportunity to enjoy. Instead of being vainglorious, you should really be humbled. Secondly, and most importantly, it is really bad for the fish and our fishing resource to abuse the fish that way, the more we handle them, the more we keep them out of the water only shortens their life span if it doesn’t kill them that day. I take this very seriously, your wishing for more likes and shares is nowhere as important to respect the life, habitat and well being of the animals which are the reason we fly fish in the first place.

One other point of mindset is to remember why you started to fly fish in the first place. I can tell you mine;

It takes me to beautiful places, quiet solitude, wilderness, water, a place to escape the ‘real’ world.

I enjoy the riddle that every day brings on the river when I’m hunting for fish. What’s the hatch? Is it bright today? Are they on dries or nymphs? What’s the flow? and so on.

Lastly, I never forget that the Trout, Bonefish, Tarpon, Whitefish did me a favor by eating my fly, so my mindset is that I am just grateful for a day on the river.

Well here we are, it’s mid-October, the first snow has fallen and the fly fishing season is slowing down. It is that time of year that the army of amazing guides start to migrate to other waters or sunny destinations where the water is clear and the beer flows like beer.

I had every intention of writing a blog post once a week with magical stories of fish caught and the newest, freshest techniques, as well as videos of showing knot-tying, beautiful water, and tours of our local rivers. As you can see, my feed was as dry as a spring creek during a drought, yes, I did none of what I promised myself to accomplish.

But the year is not over! So here I am, trying to backpedal and make journalistic amends. I got busy, the bar is next door to the Fly Shop and 6 AM comes early during a 7 day a week workweek.

Enough of the filler content, let’s get right into fish pics!

So this photo series is just proof to recuse me of the appearing unengaged and lazy. Truth is, I was fishing like a bandit and making memories for my clients as best as I could. So please keep checking back here for new and interesting content and I promise I wont disappear like a dry-fly hatch on a windy day!

As many the followers of Glenn On The Fly can attest, I really enjoy sharing stories about fishing incidences and practice. I very rarely write about just a good day on the river, John Gierach-esque style. I write mainly about process and etiquette of fly fishing, almost to a fault. But that’s going to change as of today.

As a Profession Guide, I am on the river every day from early morning to when the sun starts to set, and yes I know, I am very lucky, I know it.

I also realize that my every day is someone else’s “once in a lifetime”… I try to never forget that notion. For years, I have as a habit, try to look at the river and my surroundings with “fresh eyes” every time I drive up the river or drop into the water with my new C.O.D. (clients of the day). It is very easy, almost too easy, to take everyday occurrences for granted, it’s the ‘been there done that’ approach which is never a good thing.

This is why I advocated taking the time to write in a journal anytime you hit the water. Even a better plan is anytime when the mood strikes you. Nothing is better than reaching for your own written word to bring the texture and more life to a fond memory or for the dramatic of you, a not so fond memory.

Photos are fine and good but can be the Cliff-note, short cut take on what you actually were doing or experiencing. Sure, we all know it is said that a picture is worth a 1000 words but that is if you want someones else’s words or someone else’s take on your day. What gets missed is all the details, the little stuff that makes it that much more special.

Let me give you an example of what I’m talking about:

Photo By Jeff Holt

This photo is a nice pic. A nice shot with a dark moody feel and a touch of some action. All is good.

But what the photo doesn’t show is how beautiful the day was, a legendary Colorado bluebird sky. The wind was doing the craziest things that mid-afternoon. Its gusts were blowing swiftly upstream, then sideways, then back again which made casting the size 24 Blue Wing Olive pattern with a 24 black biot emerger as a dropper just 16 inches from the microscopic curved shank of the lead fly.

We had to have our line set-up this way because it was the rising fish that Mister Haute Couture lifestyle photographer Jeff Holt and I were trying to entice. We were taking turns casting at 3 or 4 amazing brown trout sipping just under the surface film of the still water at the tail end of an eddy in the “Eagle Pool” section of the Frying Pan River.

Jeff was new to fly fishing but had the perfect temperament to get very good, very quickly…it was a treat for me to teach someone so eager to learn the nuances of presenting a small hand-tied fly to a feeding Brown trout and get the poetry of the motions.

I decided to take a few casts toward this selective, picky trout with a long reach cast, then high sticking with a slight rod lift with just a touch drag to emulate a delicious insect freshly leaving the water. That moment, BAM! my object of desire struck my small fly with a vengeance. This was the first time Jeff had seen a fish take a dry. At that moment I set the hook quickly to tag this trout just in the right spot of his mouth. He takes the classic short run upstream and then downstream, he did exactly what he was supposed to do. I brought his head up, skated him to the net as quickly as I could. I took just a second to remove the hook while our catch lied calmly half in my net, mostly submerged in the cool water of the Frying Pan. Both Jeff and I admired the spots and colors, its full majesty then within a minute was set free to live another day.

I realized I caught two things at that moment, a gorgeous fish and witness the enthusiasm of a soon to be a fishing good friend.

Now, isn’t that better than just showing a shallow photograph that only tells 1/100 of a second of the story? I can’t emphasize the power of a good story perfectly seasoned with a great image.

Documenting and bragging has been big part of fishing since the beginning of time. I can imagine the earliest of the human race catching a fish, holding up proudly, then scurrying away to hide and eat the bounty. I also can search a historical photo archive and find a deguerreotype somewhere of a guy holding, hanging from a stringer or fighting a fish, just like this one:

It’s always a grainy, black and white image of a big fish or a ton of fish. It’s almost predictable but somethings never change.

The question is, Why do we do this? Why is it necessary to document your outing? Are you a notorious liar, and nobody will believe you otherwise? Or is it you believe you will never catch a fish again and you need the proof to show all your friends?

I don’t really have an answer and I am not an expert of human nature, what I do know is ego plays a big part in this. Why else would it be necessary to take a photo of yourself holding a fish that you just caught?

Trust me, I am no saint. I am a fly fishing guide.

I take pics with fish, I take photos of my clients with their fish as well as the surroundings were enjoying. I do this for a couple of reasons.

Sometimes the fish is amazing and I want to show it off…so there is my ego shot.

I have many photos of my clients with fish for the main reason of fueling their excitement, as well as hopefully securing my spot as their guide for future trips when they are back in my waters. It’s simple, if I’m out of sight I’m out of mind.

This brings me to the ‘Instagramation’ of fishing and how it has cheapened the status of the sport I love. Instagram excels at bring forward the worst in people.

Social Media is now the new synthetic fabric of todays society.

Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, SnapChat, whatever social dot-com comes down the pike, has created false realities and false envy for their users and followers. What Instagrammers promote is the image of “amazing” in a second reality that is far from real. How many times have you seen the perfect pose, in the perfect place, in the perfect car drinking the perfect expensive drink with the tag line; “#livingTheDream” or “#mylife”? And you know they drive a 10 year old car and their selfies without a filter they would never look like that.

Every time I check out Insta’, it’s almost ridiculous. I will even admit that seeing scantily clad beautiful women has become completely benign and old hat…EVERYONE does it. “Likes” are that important to the poster that having dignity and mystery is no longer a value, it’s an engagement killer.

So that brings me to fishing pictures on instagram. I will once again state that I use and post on the platform and I am not condemning it. What I want to stress is to get your priorities straight on the reasons your posting the images you taking. And to take those photos with respect the to sport and the wildlife you have captured.

Having the opportunity to spend time in the outdoors, communing with nature is one thing, taking that experience, sexing it up, exploiting it or damaging it is a completely other story.

The examples I can give of this are many, the extreme ranging from a girl who poses topless with all saltwater fish she caught to the asshole that posted himself using a baby shark as a bong. If you find this funny, you might want to reevaluate you sense of humor.

Next up the list is the posters that believe that they are “influencers”. For those of you that don’t know what a instagram influencer is, It is a person that gets free stuff from companies because they have a substantial amount of followers. I get that, more eyes, more sales. Conversely, I have seen many photos posted of people with a fish, with their hat down so the Logo of upfront, with a beer can propped up with the label proudly presented in the frame with a million hashtags, thinking that they will get noticed and become sponsored.

Two things; One, having 210 followers does not make you an influencer and secondly, you’re really not all that interesting. On a side note, if you’re a cute girl, that’s a perk for gaining more followers but, I can assure you that those followers are not all that interested in that fish you caught. What exactly are they trolling for? Just remember that.

One of the things that social media does do well is highlight failure. Get online and search #fishing #flyfishing #bigfish, check out how many anglers are mishandling the fish. They have them by the gills or hanging from their jaws. They have them flopping around on the shore or out of the water too long.

My personal favorite is the people who forgot they were trespassing and fishing private water. Even worse than that is the people who willingly break the rule JUST for the photo-op, Talk about losing sight.

I know it sounds like I’m a grumpy old dude and I just don’t get it but let me move to the great part of instagram fishing pics…..I got nothing”n

I would like #flyfishing or #fishing to be more like the Travel Channel or The Drake Magazine less like a venue for shameless self-promotion

My advise, keep the camera in the car, or if you cant resist, take fast and thoughtful photos. Always respect the fish, the enviorment, and if you’re a catch and release angler, “keep’um wet” let them go quickly.

One thing I know for certain is a well told fish story is way better than a photo any day of the week.

This is a big thing for me to announce today but I feel it’s about time that I do! I have been working on a children’s fly fishing book called Fly Fish’n Fly Fish’n! I have been working on it for quite a while.

I personally dislike most of the books about teaching fly fishing to kids for one main reason: they’re really not fun to read, they’re dry and geared for a very small window of ages. I wanted to write a book that would be fun for kids as well as adults. I believed I nailed it.

It was important to me to create something that was a bit more broad, smart and beautiful to look at. That means no cheesy illustrations, just great photos, line drawings, a fun to read layout with real examples of real places, real gear and a contemporary feel.

Now that September has come and fall is very much in the air, it is time to catch a breath and reflect on what a crazy summer it has been.

First and foremost, the fishing has been great all summer long. Don’t believe what social media tells you… If you keep up with what’s happening in our little hamlet, the Roaring Fork Valley and the quaint town of Basalt, you may be aware of all the excitment that has happened here; we had the Lake Christine Fire that happened on the 4th of July and thereafter burned for over a month. I provided a link to the stats as well click here and it will direct you to the photos

We also had a terrible winter last year which in turn made our water levels in the Roaring Fork critically low which forced the DOW to regulate the times in which we could fish due to the water temperature. At 66 degrees and above, the stress on the trout can kill them (and we don’t want that) so all the valleys guides did their best to “keep’m wet”, honor the request of the experts and take great care. Bravo to all who did their part.

But we persevered!

From my POV, I had a great summer and a very interesting one to say the least. Due to the challenges the fish was great but different. What I found day in and day out was that it felt that all the hatches were somewhat off. It seemed to be a month ahead of schedule as well as thin. We didn’t get that chocking caddis hatch, nor the full on “steak and potato” Green Drake hatch in August like normal. But you know what? It still all worked out. The PMD’s were strong, the BWO’s were off the hook, Hoppers are falling in the river like candy and a prince nymph is always money…

Another super cool thing that happened is that I was featured in The Aspen Sojourner Magazine with a sweet photo spread about fly fishing. I will post more about the article but want to share some of the photos they used. Online

Now the part some of you have been waiting for, the 2018 season of badass photos of fish and awesome clients, so here we go!

“Man, it’s really sticky!” That was the first thing out of my mouth when I landed in Belize as I stepped off the plane (and I use the term “plane” lightly). Belize is one of those places where you take a commercial jet to the mainland then “climb into” a small, commuter plane either ran by the government or by a disgruntled expatriate collecting a pension in order to get to your final destination. I traveled to Ambergris Caye with a short list of things to accomplish: One, to sight fish Bonefish in the turtle grass; two, to make close friends with a hammock; three, to get a guided flats boat and hunt Tarpon and Permit; four, to try as many local beers available, and number five, to repeat the first four tasks everyday for a week.

This story came back to mind recently because I was reflecting on why “we”, as fly fishermen, go to great lengths to seek out the most exotic places, only to catch fish that we don’t keep, eat or mount on our walls. It is kind of odd, really. So I started to think of my first of many Fly Fishing trips I have taken, and a trip to Belize, 20 years ago, helped me solidify the reason for this passion/obsession. Sure, the reasons are numerous: the beach, the perfect weather, the bikinis, the topaz blue waters, the tropical fruit and the delicious drinks that can be made from them… Come on, there is no down side to an exotic place. But I was not there for a tan, I was there to hunt big, powerful fish with a fly rod.

So, back to the story of Belize:

In less than 20 minutes from the airport, sitting in a topless 1976 jeep with original tires, I arrived at the hotel. It was surrounded by a 10-foot stone wall that separated “their country” from “our perfect country”, at least on the inside. On the inside of the wall, ice and buffets; on the outside, Watermelon flavored Fanta and families without shoes. After I checked in with the front desk staff, sporting my tropical shirts, broken english and big smiles, they assigned me a room, complete with palm trees, flowers and a hammock within staggering distance from the bar. My list was getting checked off much quicker than I had imagined, perfect.

Once I got settled in (aka beer in hand), I started to make inquires with the concierge/jeep driver about where I can wade for Bonefish and who was the best LOCAL Tarpon guide to hire for a day. The information came quick. The answer to the first question was, “over there”, as he pointed out of the lobby towards the flats right off the hotel’s beach, which was convenient; and the second answer was just a walkie-talkie chat away.

He buzzes whomever was on the receiving end of his CB, a distorted voice responded, “ahhhchhhhhaeee haappppchheeeeee ah ttooo, and OUT” I have no idea what he said, it could have been the local language, slang or a bad connection. My guy, I call him that because somewhere within our 20 minutes together driving, I came to trust him, whatever his name was, and how can you not trust a 270-pound guy who appears to be related to everyone on the caye? He told me that the static voice guy said, “be ready tomorrow and on the dock at 6:30 am“. OK then, I thought to myself; no guide name, no boat name, no nothing. I wasn’t sure if I was going fly fishing or being set up to lose my money, rod and anything else I may have had of value. But it was only 12:15 pm, and I was eager to get my line wet. This is my first time fly fishing the salt. I am a trout guide; a born and raised Colorado native. This was all new, this salt water thing, I was excited. For this occasion, I tapped into to my “pro-deal gear” and geared up with a brand new Sage 9 weight rod, an Able reel, new line, a mortgage-amount of saltwater flies and 2 months worth of casting experience at a local park. All I needed to believe is that I got this saltwater thing under control.

I put on my flats booties, my fishing shorts, a small waist pack, grabbed a cold beer from the beach bar and headed to the flats. (By the way, this beats putting on waders, boots, gravel guards, vest and driving to a river for two hours.) I recalled my research and discussions with my friends that have guided saltwater about what to look for when spotting Bonefish. Impatiently, I casted at anything and everything that moved or caused a shadow, just to cast and to see if, in fact, I could really cast the distance necessary to fish for any saltwater species.

I’m fighting the wind, I’m getting tangled in my line, the rocks are sharp…I am just floundering out there. I didn’t event think that there would be coral and rocks out there, I was hoping for white soft sand. Then something happened, at about 40 feet and the wind at my back, I see a tailing Bonefish, just like they said. Its tail just out of the water, a bit of cloudy water around him from nuzzling in the sand and grass. This was it! My first Bonefish and my chance to acquire that “in-the-know” nod.

So I pulled myself together, calmed myself down and tried to remember everything I read, videos I watched and advice I was told over and over by experienced guides. Rule number one, “don’t line or spook the fish”. I am getting ready to cast my line, away from the tailing fish, trying to gage my distance, which was just past the fish, just a leaders length. I feel good about it so I load up my rod and shoot the fly line and fly to the exact spot I was aiming for. I land it and, more importantly, the tail is STILL there. I didn’t spook him. I put the tip down and start to strip, fast then slow, I didn’t really know. I stripped it past him and nothing, I mean nothing, not a turn, not a move, nothing. But what that meant was I still have a shot at this fish. Back to casting, one big pull back, sent line out forward, sent more line out in the backcast then shot the fly right over the fish. I started stripping and then something happened that I didn’t expect, he ate my fly.

Everyone tells you how to spot, cast and fight a Bonefish, but no one really tells you what to expect when a fish like this takes your fly. Imagine this, you cast at a Mini Cooper and you hook the bumper, then, exactly at that moment, the Mini steps on the gas going directly away from you. That’s the feeling, more or less. The fact is, I was not prepared. Once I set the hook, he took off. I had my drag of my reel set way too strong, which resulted in me diving in after my rod after it had been ripped out of my hands by that little freight train of pissed off. Luckily, I got a hand on my rod before it escaped completely and quickly loosened my drag and away we went. The fight begins.

As he swam away, I had the rod bent so much that I was waiting to hear that “gunfire” snap that you only hear when a rod breaks under pressure. Thank god that didn’t happen, but I was waiting. Reeling the best I can, letting it run when it wanted, reeling again, I was making progress. All I could compare it to is a foul-hooked Whitefish; strong, unmanageable, and angry. As I slowly got my first ‘Bone near me, I realize that I don’t have a net… rookie mistake, so I slowly work my way to the beach and bring that #6 bundle of muscle to the shore, reach down, release the hook from its mouth and watched him swim away never looking back at me. I was pleased.

I didn’t take any pictures, have no prize to show for my heroic efforts, just the cold beer I drank while watching the turtle grass, closely, for some kind of movement.

Be sure to hit me up this Saturday. I will tell you about the Tarpon experience I had the next day.

Here is Kirk Webb’s submission for my Sunday “Fly-fishermen and their quiet companion” photo contest. Kirk is a true man of skill and talent, he has taught a dog a many new trick. As one of the “Big Men on campus” at Taylor Creek Fly Shop in Basalt he is truly the best in knowing what’s happening on the river.

Be sure to send me your favorite photos of you and your dog to be featured here on my blog. Hashtag and/or tag @artofflyfishing or #artofflyfishing on Instagram or Twitter or sent them vis email glennandtheartofflyfishing@gmail.com